


I Loved, And I Loved, And I Lost You

by ChasetheWindTouchtheSky



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellamy 'losing it a little' Blake, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Just getting a theory out of my system, One-Shot, season 6 spec, spec on that choking scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 02:37:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18983491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasetheWindTouchtheSky/pseuds/ChasetheWindTouchtheSky
Summary: It started with little things.Little things that made Bellamy feel mildly unhinged for noticing, but he noticed them all the same. The way she moves, the way she holds herself. Clarke has felt oddly different over the past few days from the party. Bellamy initially told himself that he was still finding his footing after his fight with Echo, after he left his sister to her own devices outside the safety of Sanctum. But he couldn’t help this itching feeling in the back of his mind that something was wrong. Something was off.~~~Season 6 spec after 6x04, inspired by the scene in the 100 trailer between Clarke, Murphy, Bellamy, and Russell.





	I Loved, And I Loved, And I Lost You

**Author's Note:**

> Hi loves! 
> 
> Apparently it’s ‘One-Shot world’ these days for me. They’re less daunting than all my huge WIPs going on – not going to lie! There’s something super intimidating about constantly writing novel-length stories lol… I swear I haven’t stopped them, it’s just easier to write one-shots!
> 
> This was an idea that I had based on some speculation of the trailer vs. 6x04. I don’t think this is exactly how it’s going to go down, but I couldn’t get this out of my head with Bob saying Bellamy will be relapsing to S1 version of himself. To me, that means taking highly emotional, RISKY chances that he hasn’t really thought through. 
> 
> Also the title is thanks to Saumya and her angst playlist. It has brought my angsty side back to life and destroyed me. You can thank her for all the updates I’ve been making because her playlist murdered me.
> 
> So here we go!

I LOVED, AND I LOVED, AND I LOST YOU

_By ChasetheWindTouchtheSky_

It started with little things.

 

Little things that made Bellamy feel mildly unhinged for noticing, but he noticed them all the same. The way she moves, the way she holds herself. Clarke has felt oddly different over the past few days from the party. Bellamy initially told himself that he was still finding his footing after his fight with Echo, after he left his sister to her own devices outside the safety of Sanctum. But he couldn’t help this itching feeling in the back of his mind that something was _wrong_. Something was _off_.

 

It isn’t until he sees Clarke across the dining hall, speaking with someone from Sanctum that he knows it’s more than a feeling. She’s over there, beaming at someone in a way that was so rare, he thought it was a gift. Not that he didn’t want Clarke to be carefree, but she’s different. She moves fluidly, instead of the purposeful way that he’s used to. Clarke was a presence that couldn’t be ignored, but now it’s as if she wanted to be ignored.

 

“You guys, I’m not kidding about Delilah,” Jordan is saying over dinner for what feels like the fourth time. “She doesn’t even remember me. Someone had to remind her of my _name_. My name! We slept together, and she can’t remember my name?”

 

“Listen bro, that is not a new thing. Don’t think you’re special.” Murphy snorts, swirling a drink around in a glass.

 

“This isn’t a joke!” Jordan exclaims, the first hint of anything other than optimism. He slams his hand on the table and Murphy’s drink sloshes out of the glass.

 

“Dude!”

 

“You guys spoke with Delilah! You know her. Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that she’s the same person who let us into her home and hugged us and lent us clothes?”

 

Murphy snorts. “She lent you her clothes?”

 

“Oh shut up!” Jordan cries.

 

“Our baby’s first swear word.” Murphy says with a smile.

 

“Murphy, play nice.” Bellamy grumbles.

 

He’s still not taking his eyes off of her. Clarke places her hand on the shoulder of someone and lets out a loud laugh, to the point where even Murphy startles. “What the fuck is going on her,” Murphy mutters, taking another drink.

 

“So you see it too?” Bellamy asks, frowning. “She’s been acting odd, right?”

 

“You mean she’s acting like she hasn’t been the biggest mass murderer in the room? Yeah.”

 

“Murphy, I’m not going to have this conversation with you if you’re going to act like that.” Bellamy snaps.

 

“I’m only mostly kidding.”

 

Clarke takes a piece of her hair and twirls it in her fingers, her leg tilting to the side. “That’s… odd.” Murphy says, the sarcasm out of his voice.

 

“That’s not odd.” Bellamy says, jaw set. “That’s not Clarke.”

 

Murphy makes a face. “Okay, let’s not jump to weirdest-case-scenario—”

 

“So _now_ you believe me?” Jordan says. “That they’re doing something! They’re – woah.”

 

Bellamy turns his attention back to where Clarke stands. She’s moved to her toes and she’s whispering something to the person. Her gazes flits to the side and there’s something very sensual about the way she’s looking at everyone.

 

Bellamy’s not an idiot. He knows Clarke is beautiful. It’s always been a fact that has hung over his head since he met her. He’d gone through several stages over the past years: being annoyed she was attractive, considering doing something about his attraction, shoving the attraction down, and then letting the attraction transform into something that may resemble love. Does resemble love, if he’s being particularly honest today.

 

Now’s not the time for thoughts of that.

 

Clarke seems to notice they’re all staring at her. Her head tilts. For a brief moment, her expression grows still. Bellamy might even describe it as murderous. It’s so quick that he even questions whether he’s seen it. Because an easy smile washes over her face, which feels alien. Because Clarke never smiled easy. He hasn’t seen it. He saw hints of it – that maybe peace was coming their way, but she wasn’t there yet.

 

“Here are my boys!” Clarke says, making her way over there. “Stuck in a corner, as usual. You know, you should really try and be more involved in the Sanctum. They found a way to live here in peace, we need to be able to integrate with them.”

 

“Bossing us around again, Clarke?” Murphy huffs.

 

“You know, I wouldn’t be so grumpy if I had a relationship like you Murphy.” Clarke says, rolling her eyes. “She must be a very patient woman.”

 

“What’s her name?” Bellamy asks, unable to stop herself.

 

Clarke recoils. “I’m sorry?”

 

“What’s her name?” Bellamy asks.

 

Clarke tilts her head again. It’s sharp. Wrong. “Oh Bellamy,” she laughs, placing a hand on his shoulder. Bellamy stares at it. “You can get so weird sometimes.”

 

With that, she walks away.

 

“Okay,” Murphy says, staring where she moved away. “That was odd.”

 

“Believe me now?” Jordan asks.

 

Bellamy doesn’t have anything else to say. Clarke leaves and he watches her. She shifts her weight differently. Moves her hips differently.

 

“The tunnels.” Bellamy says, blinking to remind herself that staring where Clarke once was. “If they were doing something, they would be going where they don’t want anyone to see, they would be using the tunnels. We need to explore.

 

“What will that get us, Bellamy?” Murphy hisses. “What if they’re doing something? What if they are doing something to the nightbloods? We aren’t nightbloods and it’s none of our business!”

 

“ _Clarke_ is a nightblood!” Bellamy snaps back. “She’s a nightblood to save us and now we have indication that something is going on and you want to just ignore that?”

 

“We could go back to war!”

 

“They’re taking _our_ people!” Bellamy says. “I’m tired of this, Clarke is our people. I can’t believe that I have to keep on saying that. Clarke is our people!”

 

“Okay, jeez, calm down.”

 

“No.” Bellamy says, shaking his head. “I’m not going to calm down, we have to figure something out. I’m not calming down until we figure it out.”

 

“What was with all that talk from Clarke about using your head?” Murphy exclaims.

 

“I swear to god, I’m going to punch you in the face.”

 

Jordan settles next to them. “Someone should.”

 

“Hey – your father was anti-violence. He would be disappointed in you.”

 

“No,” Jordan snaps, standing and shaking his head. “He would be disappointed in _you_.”

 

He storms away, leaving his food and drink on the table. Murphy doesn’t even flinch. “Wouldn’t be the first person.” He mumbles.

 

“Enough of that.” Bellamy says, standing up. “You want to be better? You want to _do_ better? This is how we honor Monty and Harper. We protect the people we love. You hear me, Murphy? We protect the people we _love._ ”

 

Murphy stands. His jaw twitches in the way it does before he’s planning on eviscerating him. “You finally admitting it?” He asks, no humor in his eyes.

 

“Admitting what?”

 

“That you love her?” Murphy asks. “We protect the people we love? Is that what you’re saying? You love her?”

 

Bellamy knows Murphy’s goading him. He knows that he’s trying to get a rise out of him in the worst possible way. Bellamy crosses his arms and faces the man. He can still see the bruises around his neck where he held him underwater. The darkness behind his eyes from whatever experience he had.

 

“Yes.”

 

Murphy blinks, a smirk curling on his lips. “That’s a start. We better go then. The tunnels await.”

 

***

 

They’re as creepy as Murphy thought they might be.

 

He really would like to be spending his time elsewhere. He would like to be drinking. He would like to be with Emori. He would like to be literally anywhere else than here. Except somehow he finds himself in a dark tunnel with Bellamy of all people, wandering around, hoping they would find some indication that something happened to Clarke.

 

It all comes back to Clarke Griffin. _Again._

 

God, he was wondering when that woman would stop being the center of all their problems. He wanted so much to be drinking and doing anything else. Except he’s wandering in a tunnel. He’s going to kill Bellamy.

 

Except… it’s Clarke.

 

He hates the fact that he still cares about her. Honestly, it would be so much _easier_ if he would just… not care about her. That’s why he has to lash out. Say things. Because if he actually stops and says ‘hey, this is one of my people,’ he would have to accept the fact that she didn’t have his back. And that he didn’t have hers. That they hurt each other. And there really wasn’t anything else they could do about that.

 

Except move on.

 

Cockroaches survive anything. They could survive this.

 

That is, of course…

 

“Murphy, over here!” Bellamy calls to him.

 

Bellamy is very clearly trying to keep it together. It’d be funny, if it wasn’t so not funny. He’s doing that Bellamy thing he does when he makes himself taller, he wraps his arms around himself like he’s trying to protect himself by hiding it through crossing his arms. Murphy made the mistake once of calling him out on it on the Ring. The only time Bellamy really laid into him. No practice-fighting, no life lessons.

 

Just him, Bellamy, a punch, and the floor.

 

He could’ve used a drink after that one too.

 

Murphy shuffles over where Bellamy is calling to him. “Oh my god, I regret ever listening to you,” he mumbles, making a face.

 

They’re surrounded by skeletons. Bellamy looks around, horrified. Which he should be. Objectively, he should be.

 

But at this point?

 

New day, same shit.

 

“This is cozy.” Murphy says, moving around the skeletons. “Figures the first place that didn’t seem to want to murder us constantly would have a basement literally filled with skeletons underneath it.”

 

There are placards at the base of their feet. Names he doesn’t recognize, nor does he really care. He nudges their bones with the butt of his gun, making a face.

 

“Murphy, come on,” Bellamy hisses when he notices. “Let’s not touch the dead, shall we?”

 

“They’re dead, what do you think they can do?”

 

“I swear, I’m—wait.” Bellamy stops in his tracks. He kneels down to where there’s a skeleton tucked in the corner of the room. “Wait,”

 

Murphy comes to join him. The name _Josephine Lightbourne_ is scrawled on a piece of wood at its feet. The paint is old, covered in dust and chipping. A name from a long time ago. Below its feet, is something shiny. “Should you be picking up the belongings of the dead, Bellamy?” Murphy asks as he kneels.

 

Murphy isn’t sure if Bellamy hears him anymore. He picks up whatever it is and brings it up into the light.

 

It’s a watch. Murphy shrugs. “Seems pointless to know the time when you’re dead, but okay.”

 

“Murphy.” Bellamy says, flipping it over. _“Murphy._ ”

 

He says it in a way that makes Murphy notice. Murphy reaches out and grabs it from him and realizes he recognizes it. He’s seen this many times before. He doesn’t even need to turn it over to see the careful scrawl of _‘Jake Griffin’_ to know whose it was.

 

Bellamy doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to.

 

Murphy knows.

 

So when the two get out of the tunnels and Bellamy marches through Sanctum with more purpose he’s seen in a while. He can barely even see the limp in his leg where Clarke has stabbed him only a week ago. “Okay, okay, Bellamy. You’re looking all murder-y and I feel like since Clarke isn’t here, I need to be the one to tell you to use your head.”

 

Murphy really shouldn’t have said her name, because he’s fairly certain Bellamy might take all the frustration out on him. But he doesn’t say anything, instead continuing toward the palace. “We should regroup! Get everyone’s opinions! It may not be what you think it is.”

 

“Not what I think it is? What do you think I think it is, Murphy?”

 

“Listen, I’ve already done the thing where someone finds Clarke’s watch and then goes in to murder a bunch of people and I really don’t need to relive the experience. 0 out of 5 stars the first time.”

 

Bellamy stops, rounding on him. “This is not the same thing.”

 

“You don’t have all the information! And if something did happen, we need to be strategic, right? We need to figure out what happened! We don’t know what they’re doing to the nightbloods and if they did anything to Clarke. Maybe she’s just found peace or whatever. Maybe the lantern thing worked and she’s trying to be, like, normal or something.”

 

Bellamy fixes him with a look.

 

Again, it’d be funny if it weren’t so… not.

 

“Okay fine. Clarke didn’t suddenly become a super chill, easy-going person. But we can talk to him, right? Nothing more.”

 

Bellamy narrows his eyes. “Right. We’ll just go talk to him.”

 

“I don’t like what your face just did, but if we’re going with my plan, I’m here for it.” Murphy says. Bellamy stalks past him. “Right, forget, there’s no time to waste on the murder train.”

 

Bellamy doesn’t give him an exasperated eye roll, which tells him how bad it is. So Murphy does what he’s not great at: he keeps quiet.

 

When they reach the palace, Bellamy manages a passable lie about seeing Russell, to which they get the response of “To join your friend? Please this way.”

 

Murphy knows he’s grasping at straws not to believe him, but it’s too unreal. Because Clarke is walking and breathing. Sure, she’s acting odd. And sure, she hasn’t told him to go fuck himself in her own words in the past few days. But what Bellamy’s suggesting is too much.

 

“—no one knows about it. We can’t tell _anyone_. Do you understand?”

 

“Do you understand how difficult this is? They survived war together. The end of the world. I have no idea how to—”

 

“Hi there.”

 

Bellamy barges into the room with the voices, which Murphy wants to scream about, because everyone knows you get the intel first. _Clarke_ taught them that. But he walks in anyway, making himself taller and bigger.

 

God, he’s totally going to die here.

 

He always knew Bellamy would be the death of him.

 

Murphy groans as he follows the man in the room. He’s startled to see Clarke and Russell standing next to each other, Clarke looking more pissed than he’s seen her in a while. It looks a little… off. It isn’t the same way she usually seems angry – and he has a lot of experience dealing with a pissed off Clarke Griffin. This seems a little more petulant, a little more annoyed.

 

“What are you guys doing here?” Clarke asks, a clipped edge in her voice.

 

“We had agreed we would take all treaty conversations together, remember?” Bellamy asks evenly. “We agreed we work better together and not apart.”

 

“I didn’t think this was that big of a deal.” Clarke offers flippantly, waving her hand aside. Murphy’s never seen Clarke wave anyone aside like that, especially not Bellamy. “You didn’t need to be here.”

 

“I’m here now.” Bellamy says. “Why don’t you get me up to speed?”

 

Clarke’s eyes flit in the direction of Russell. Murphy doesn’t miss it, so he knows Bellamy sure as hell didn’t. “We were just talking about what we’re going to do about the rest of our people. About when he’d be comfortable waking everyone else.”

 

“That doesn’t sound like a small conversation.” Bellamy continues, walking around the room. He’s circling them. There’s something dangerous about the way he’s moving that Murphy hadn’t seen in a very long time. “In fact, Clarke, I’d call that a big conversation. Anything you want to share with me?”

 

Neither of them respond.

 

Murphy’s getting uncomfortable. They’re definitely dying here. “Okay, Bellamy.” Murphy starts, reaching out for him. “We should—”

 

Before he can finish his sentence, Bellamy reaches in his pocket and pulls out something. Taking two strides over to where Russell is, he flips the piece of cloth over his head and pulls it against Russell’s neck. “Bellamy, what the fuck?” Murphy cries, moving over to where he is.

 

“Bellamy, what are you doing?” Clarke cries, her voice ratcheting up to something like panic. “Bellamy, stop! You’re supposed to be docile! What are you doing?”

 

“What did you do?” Bellamy grits out. “Tell me.”

 

“Bellamy, stop! Please, stop!” Clarke cries, rushing over to him. “Stop, you’re killing him!”

 

“He won’t let us wake our people, I think this works.” Bellamy snaps.

 

“You’re killing him! Please, don’t kill my Dad!”

 

It’s as if time stops.

 

Bellamy stops pulling on the cloth. His arms slacken and Russell falls to the floor, coughing and choking as he grabs his neck.

 

When Bellamy turns around, it’s an expression he hasn’t seen in a while. His eyes are glassy and he’s staring at Clarke like she’s a monster. Murphy isn’t sure he’s ever seen him look at her like that. It’s almost painful to look at.

 

“Who are you?” Bellamy asks, his words stilted. “What did you do to Clarke?”

 

Clarke looks around like she’s looking for an escape. “I-I misspoke. I meant, he’s _someone’s_ dad, I—”

 

“Who are you!” Bellamy bellows at her and even Murphy can’t help but flinch. His anger is building until it feels like a physical presence in the room.

 

Growing, growing. Murphy feels like they’re going to suffocate on it.

 

“Bellamy, you have to understand,” Russell chokes out, managing to get back on his feet. “It is a beautiful sacrifice that Clarke made.”

 

“Excuse me?” Bellamy asks, whipping around. _“Excuse me?”_

 

Russell puts his hands up. “Sacrificing yourself so someone else can live, it’s a noble and beautiful thing.”

 

“You mean she agreed to this?” Murphy can’t help it, he can’t keep his mouth shut. He’s never been able to. “Clarke thought it would be a good idea for you to do whatever you did – without even telling us? Without saying goodbye?” Murphy leans into Bellamy. “I mean, it kinda sounds like a stupid thing she’d do.”

 

Bellamy doesn’t even look at him. Instead he’s focused on Russell, his anger rolling off of him. “We don’t have many opportunities. Black blood is a recessive trait. We would have seen another black blooded person for at least another thirty-five years.”

 

Murphy closes his eyes. “So that’s a no.”

 

“We couldn’t waste that opportunity. We suddenly had the perfect, healthy, young host fall from the sky with no one to miss her.”

 

Murphy knows Bellamy snaps before it even happens. As the words are coming out of his mouth, Murphy already is reaching for him, but he still isn’t quick enough. Bellamy lunges at Russell and tackles him, the two tumbling to the ground.

 

“Bellamy stop!” Clarke cries. “Please, don’t kill my Dad! Please!”

 

“Clarke’s dad is Jake Griffin!” Bellamy mutters. “If you had paid any attention to the watch you _stole_ from her while stealing her body, you’d know that! You switch her back. You get Clarke back right now or I will kill you! Without hesitation.”

 

“Bellamy,” Russell says quietly. “Bellamy, there’s no Clarke. Clarke is… gone.”

 

Murphy thinks it’s the only thing Russell could’ve said to stop him from choking him to death. Bellamy’s fingers falter from around his throat, giving Russell a moment to breathe. “What?” he asks, the word husky.

 

“It’s a part of the host process. In order for the mind to fully connect with the body, the person must pass away.” Russell says slowly. “Trust me, Clarke felt no pain.”

 

“Trust you?” Bellamy cries. _“Trust you?”_ Pulling the man from his collar, Bellamy slams him against a wall. “Trust you? I will kill you! I will—”

 

The door swings open, several Sanctum guards pouring in. Murphy has had enough dying for one lifetime, so he puts his hands up quickly, but it takes three guards to restrain Bellamy. They wrench his arms behind his back and knee him so he falls, weapons pointed at his head. Murphy can see the wildness in his eyes – that he’s contemplating trying to fight his way out.

 

Before he can do something that monumentally stupid, Clarke steps in front of him and kneels. “She loved you so much,” the woman says quietly. “I’m sure you knew, but in case you didn’t. You see, even though the person dies, there are still residual emotions. Not memories, I don’t have any of her thoughts, but things that last. The affection for her mom. Madi. And for you.” The woman who once was Clarke smiles at him. “The first time I saw you, it was like a wave hit me. I thought something wrong was happening with my brain. But I realize now, it was for you. She loved you.”

 

“You shut up about her.” Bellamy says, fighting against his restraints. There are tears in his eyes and Murphy can tell he’s about to lose it and doing everything in his power not to. “Don’t you dare talk about her. You are a murderer.”

 

Clarke stands and moves to where Russell is. “Are you hurt?”

 

Russell shakes his head, even though there’s a redness forming around his throat. “Take them to the holding cell. We’ll figure out what to do with them there.”

 

“You’re a murderer!” Bellamy shouts, fighting as hard as he can. “You killed her!”

 

“She died in a way her life never was, Bellamy. Quietly. Peacefully.” Russell says softly. “Take peace in that.”

 

“Go to hell!” Bellamy shouts.

 

He shouts all the way to their cell.

 

Yup, Bellamy is definitely going to be the death of Murphy.

 

It isn’t until they’re alone that Bellamy stops shouting. There are tears rolling down his cheeks and he’s staring ahead, but Murphy isn’t sure that he’s seeing anything. His back hits the wall and he slides down, so Murphy joins him.

 

They don’t say anything.

 

It’s rare that Murphy doesn’t have something to say. But what is there at this point?

 

They lost.

 

“They want a fight?” Bellamy says, not wiping his tears away. “I’m gonna give them one.”

 

“Bellamy—“ Murphy warns. “Clarke would be the _first_ person to tell you that it isn’t a good idea—”

 

“Well Clarke’s not here, is she Murphy?” Bellamy shouts and Murphy tries to refrain from flinching. “They have skeletons in their basement? They should’ve realized we had them too.”

 

Bellamy turns to him, his eyes hardening.

 

“Time for a little chaos.”

 

Murphy sighs, the back of his head hitting the wall of the cell. “Oh my god, we’re totally gonna die.”

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: And then Bellamy FIGHTS.
> 
> I doubt this is what’s happening in the strangling scene from the trailer, but this popped in my mind. That Bellamy just does this super emotional move of attacking Russell to see if he’s right about Clarke. Totally emotional and violent.
> 
> Also, can I say how much fun it is to write from Murphy’s POV? I’m gonna have to do it more often. I love 3rd party POVs on love stories, I’m not gonna lie. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! I just needed this out of my system. <3 <3 <3


End file.
